


This Confidence in Me and You

by angeburger, Lyxxie



Series: Protect me from what I want [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, idiot boys in love, now with less sad boys, read previous fic in series first if you haven't already for context
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 18:36:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10905096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angeburger/pseuds/angeburger, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyxxie/pseuds/Lyxxie
Summary: Their apartment (somewhere near where Mid-Wilshire becomes Koreatown) awaits. It's tiny, but it'll do the job. They'll have a kitchen, a bathroom, and each other. It’s enough.They're enough.





	This Confidence in Me and You

**Author's Note:**

> Hey kids! Usagi here. Thanks for all of the love that the first part in this series received. We're back! And hopefully this fic won't be as painful to write. 
> 
> Anyway, Lyxxie wants to remind y'all to "please practice safe car sex, stay hydrated". 
> 
> Kisses!

One year later, and they're setting off once more for the sea. This time it's for good, or for the next four years at the very least. They have a mattress tied with bungie cords to the top of Archie's car, and that's all the furniture they'll have for a little while - but Jughead's okay with that. He's always been a little bit more on the minimalistic side of things, anyway. 

 

Their apartment (somewhere near where Mid-Wilshire becomes Koreatown) awaits. It's tiny, but it'll do the job. They'll have a kitchen, a bathroom, and each other. It’s enough. 

 

They're enough. 

 

When they found the place online and scanned the signed papers back to the listing owner, Jughead remembers Archie teasing him that their apartment might not have room for all his photography gear, or wall-space for their photos. Jughead's smart reply got lost in replaying the words “our apartment” over and over in his head until Archie laughingly kissed the dazed expression off his face.

 

They still have two weeks until orientation and classes begin to get situated. Veronica's already invited herself (and Betty) over, but the boys have been firm: no guests until they get their shit together. So they're leaving now, with as much clothing as they can pack (Fred said he'd ship the rest to them when needed, though he'd chuckled when saying they wouldn't need much for winter and they'd be fine), and their essentials. Anything else that can't immediately get them through the next two weeks will be sent to them. 

 

Jughead’s already started planning. Another few notebooks have been packed, and he has another out now with a list of things they need, things that can wait, and a loose schedule. There'll be a small time difference to overcome (two hours going backwards), and he's trying to work that into things as much as he can. 

 

Once again, he feels his shoulders loosen in relief once they cross the state line. Archie looks like he feels the same, but also excited, feeling like life was finally starting for both of them. 

 

“Why do we need this much stuff?” Jughead's frown is deep, confused, looking at the list. He's trying to make out Archie's messy scrawl on another piece of paper (Archie's own list being integrated with the main one). He squints, rotating the piece of paper sideways. “Wait,  _ how _ do we need this much stuff?”

 

“We need to be prepared, Juggie - “

 

“My ass. I can barely read half the shit you've added on here and I can already tell you we won't need it.”

 

“But it's stuff I  _ want _ \- “ Archie's resorting to whining, and Jughead can feel the suggestion of a headache between his eyes making itself known. 

 

“I want stuff too, but I'd rather not start the year in debt. And, oh yeah, I've got a powerful need to  _ eat _ sometime this month. Remember, those textbook costs are gonna be bad - “

 

“Don't remind me. Please.” Archie looks like he's in pain just thinking about it. “Disregard my list, then.” 

 

“Thank you.” 

 

“But…”

 

“Oh no. Don't. Stop - “

 

“I mean it's not like we're going to graduate debt free, right?”

 

Jughead just exhales heavily, covering his face with his hands and groaning into them. “Why, Lord? Why must I be punished this way?”

 

“Because the sex is too good and the Lord needs collateral to balance things out?” 

 

Jughead grumbles incoherently at the glove compartment.

 

“What was that?”

 

“I said ‘shut up’.”

 

“That was too many syllables for 'shut up’.”

 

“Okay, so I said ‘fuck you, shut up’. Sue me.”

 

“I could.”

 

“I just said we  _ don't have any money _ , Andrews-”

 

“No, the first thing.” Archie glances over at him, sunlight bouncing off his grin.

 

Jughead raises his eyebrows. “Really? We haven't even been on the road for half of our driving day yet and you wanna pull over and fuck on the hood of the car?”

 

“Yeah, well, a man has needs. Needs that weren't fulfilled this morning because we had to leave early. Also, I said  _ nothing _ about the hood of the car, where's  _ your _ head at?”

 

Jughead glares at him. “Would you rather me just ride you there in the driver's seat?”

 

Archie's grinning. “If it means not being arrested for indecent exposure…” 

 

“I don't know how  _ you _ have sex-”

 

“ _ Yes _ you do, what the fuck, Jug.”

 

“ _ Please _ just keep your focus on the road. I'd greatly prefer to arrive in one piece to pick up our keys.”

 

“I'll pull off if you want me to. Just sayin’.”

 

Another series of grumbles towards the glove compartment.

 

“Did you just snarkily say that you'd ‘pull me off’ if I didn't shut up?” Archie laughs.

 

“ _ No _ , fuck off.” Jughead rubs at his nose, blush along his cheekbones.

 

“Nah. I'm good. But you seem to be thinking about that hood of the car thing, if your lap is anything to go by.” 

 

Jughead flips him the bird, once more lamenting his lack of other languages and his limited ways he can tell his boyfriend to fuck all the way off. 

 

Archie sighs, takes the next exit. They're almost near the forest, he can see it in the distance. 

 

“We're going to be behind schedule now because of your libido,” Jughead mutters as they pull off onto a lonely shoulder. 

 

“Mmhmm.  _ My _ libido. Right.” Archie chuckles, reaching out a hand and putting it on Jughead's thigh. Jughead's blush gets brighter and that seems to please Archie. 

 

“How is this going to work? There's not enough room. And  _ you  _ don't want to go on the hood - “

 

“It's not that I don't want to, but more that I don't really want to be exposed to the elements or any cops that may be setting up speed traps or whatever,” Archie shrugs. 

 

“You really are paranoid about that, aren't you?” Jughead raises an eyebrow, somewhere between amused and amazed. 

 

Archie sighs. “If my dad got notified he'd want to drag us home.”

 

“Damn your logic,” Jughead mutters after a moment. 

 

“But that doesn't mean we can't figure something else out.” The hand on Jughead's thigh slides inwards, fingers splaying along the seam of his jeans, pressing heat into the skin underneath. Archie can almost feel the other boy’s heartbeat in his veins, a jolt of it speeding up as Jughead’s lips pull in a frown.

 

“Right, ‘figure something out’. Because I'm sure you're just winging it, and that you didn't start concocting a plan as soon as we left the town border on how you could get my pants off.”

 

Archie's smile is wide, sparkling through his eyes as he unlatches his seatbelt and leans in to do the same for Jughead. “I spend most of my free time planning on how to get your pants off, Jug.” It comes out low and thrumming, a tone he knows the effects of as he watches a swallow edge down Jughead's throat.

 

“That probably explains some things.” Jughead's voice is soft, tracking Archie's mouth as the redhead hovers just inside the range to see each other clearly. “Like how you tend to zone out and come back to Earth blushing.”

 

Archie makes a soft noise of agreement, notes the goosebumps on Jughead's arms, flannel tossed in the backseat several miles ago. “I'm frequently trying to decide if it's worth it to sneak you into a secluded corner to-” And Jughead breaks first, lips gliding over Archie's like a silk scarf as Archie grins against him in return.

 

Archie half-pulls and Jughead half-pushes himself into Archie's lap. There's no room, it's uncomfortable with the steering wheel digging into his back but Jughead just can't stop now. Archie's hand fumbles at the edge of his seat to let it recline and it does with a loud  _ clunk _ . 

 

Now there's room. Not a lot, but just enough. 

 

“I thought you'd be pleased with my plans to get your pants off,” Archie laughs against his lips, running the flats of his palms down Jughead's spine. 

 

“I’d be more pleased if both our pants were  _ actually off _ , chatterbox.” Jughead’s voice is still soft, cancelling out any sarcasm, and Archie laughs again.

 

“Impatient?”

 

“We are  _ behind schedule _ .” That has Archie pulling back, laughing with his full body, jostling the boy in his lap with the movements.

 

Jughead pauses while his chuckles die down. 

 

“And someone was  _ too tired _ last night,” he adds with a deep frown. “This could have all been solved if you'd just been awake past 10.”

 

“Yeah, no. I'm pretty sure we'd still be in the exact same position.” Archie hums, nips at Jughead's bottom lip, presses his smile to the corner of his mouth.

 

“That was an egregious pun, Arch.” Jughead's words are half-gasped. “Why do I put up with you?” He raises one eyebrow.

 

“Gonna make me repeat myself?”

 

“Or you could remind me. Either is fine.”

 

“Gotta pick one, Juggie. Words or pants.”

 

Jughead sighs deeply. “Pants,” he mutters, and it's almost a huff. “And when I said 'remind’...” He runs a hand down Archie's chest. “I didn't really add 'with words’ as a stipulation. That was all you.”

 

Archie's grin is wide, turning his head to graze teeth over the muscle on the side of Jughead's neck, press his nose behind his ear as the other boy shivers. “Sue me.”

 

“Remind me the right way and I might not need to.” His words are breathy with the feeling of teeth against his skin. He decided long ago that if Archie were truly a wild beast, he wouldn't mind being devoured.

 

“Is that a challenge?” Archie seems positively giddy at such a suggestion. He runs hands up Jughead's thighs, pausing at the apex, and Jughead makes a frustrated noise as his attempt to spread them open wider gets thwarted by the car door against his knee.

 

“This is why we haven't done this in a car,” he mutters, voice almost a growl. 

 

“I do love a challenge,” Archie hums, deciding on his own answer. Jughead flexes the hands on his shoulders and narrows his eyes at the boy underneath him.

 

“Is it the alpha male in you that makes you love those so much?”

 

Archie laughs. “I don't know. I just know that you make the most  _ fantastic _ sounds during said challenges, Juggie,” He nips Jughead's shoulder, “and that's enough for me.”

 

Another shiver runs the length of Jughead's spine, and he swallows a second noise of frustration. “You know, I could have  _ sworn _ I told you I wanted our pants off at  _ least _ several minutes ago.”

 

“Did you ask nicely?”

 

“Archie, god _ damnit _ -” he hisses, cut off by the scrape of nails along the muscles in his stomach. He can't swallow the soft keen that escapes somehow from the depths of his throat. Archie looks pleased. 

 

“I can't hear you asking me nicely,” His voice is a croon near Jughead's ear, one hand darting up his shirt to pinch a nipple. 

 

Jughead's keen gets louder and he looks like he hates himself for letting that sound get loose. 

 

“Juggie - “ The nickname is practically sung at him. Jughead closes his eyes and grits his teeth in frustration.

 

“Please, Archie.” 

 

“Can't hear you - “

 

“ _ Please _ , Archie!” Jughead forces the volume of his voice up, and it sounds close to pleading. Archie's response is to tug at his earlobe with his teeth, freeing a bubbled gasp from Jughead's throat, and squeezing the hands on his thighs, pressing fingers and delighting in the quiver along the other boy’s legs.

 

“See what can happen when you say ‘please’?” He grins, dancing his fingers up to undo Jughead's belt buckle. He's pretty sure Jughead  _ snarls _ , kissing him with bruising force and tangling fingers in his hair to tug at the strands. It's Archie's turn to groan, halting his hands when a tongue licks into his mouth and hips roll along his. “Jug,” There's the edge of a whine in the way he breathes his name, rewarded with nails along his scalp and another wave of hips.

 

“ _ Pants _ ,” Jughead rasps, moving his hands down Archie's chest to the other boy’s belt with a swallowed whimper from the redhead. It's more awkward manoeuvring, Jughead lifting himself up on shaky legs for a moment with his back against the roof, but they manage to slide their jeans down the necessary few inches to free themselves. 

 

Archie then remembers the lube, which he knows is in Jughead's bag. He manages to get it with little fanfare, Jughead snatching it from his fingers almost immediately. Archie watches, amused.

 

“Remind me to never make you go without ever ag - “

 

And his sentence ends with a moan as Jughead's hand closes around him. 

 

“Sorry, what was that?” Jughead's grin is sharp, fingers going slowly up and down his skin.

 

Archie just whines softly, hips trying to meet Jughead's pace, trying to speed it up. Jughead just chuckles softly, his grip on Archie's other hip bruising, to keep him still. 

 

“I can't  _ hear _ you,” the dark-haired boy croons. 

 

_ “Fuck,  _ Jug, please - “ Archie's still trying to move, to no avail. The whine is starting to turn into a keen, and Jughead slows things down even more, glides those fingers over slick skin at an agonizingly slow pace. Archie swans his neck back, throat tight as he tries to contain himself. “ _ Please _ ,” he looses a groan as Jughead swoops down to razor teeth under his jaw, snapping them just under his ear.

 

“Please  _ what _ , Arch? You have to tell me what you want before I decide if I'm going to give it to you.” He hums against his skin, all honey and silk, teasing the boy below with a thumb over the tip of him and pulling a gasping cry from his throat.  

 

God, this beast was going to kill him one day doing this. 

 

Archie's panting now, every bit of him on fire with need. Jughead loves the flush unfolding high on his cheeks, how his whole body is strung tight. 

 

“Please, Juggie.” How the hell was he actually going to say this? “Just…” The flush turns into a blush, nuclear. “Fuck me.  _ Please. _ ”

 

Jughead's grin grows, hand starting to go faster but not by much. “Since you asked so nicely…” It's almost a purr for how smug he sounds, squeezing at the base and twisting his wrist at the tip to turn Archie into a writhing mess beneath him. The redhead presses fingers into Jughead's knee, along his thighs, and tries to roll his hips up again into him. Jughead obliges this time, releasing his hip to skitter blunt nails up his stomach, drag them back down in firm lines to make Archie bow up, away from the seat and closer to him.

 

Jughead thinks of how much he loves Archie this way; a blushing writhing begging  _ mess _ . Loves the keens and the whines and the moans. Loves how Archie just  _ hands  _ himself over, trusts him. 

 

“I mean I would actually do more, but since you so blatantly refused the hood of the car as an option…” Jughead shrugs, “But this works.” He rolls his hips in time to the pace he's set, offsetting warm fingers with brushes against the denim of his jeans.

 

Archie’s teeth are clenched in a shudder before he reaches out to grip Jughead's shirt, pull him in to slant lips over his, drag a soft groan from the boy above him when he curls his tongue around his and flashes teeth against it. “Tell me how well that would have worked,” Archie pants, bucking up harshly when Jughead squeezes wickedly at the base again. “when we’d get caught by the state troopers before either of us has come. I’ll take mildly cramped spaces over -  _ ahh _ ,” he whines again when Jughead runs those nails over the jumping muscles under his navel. “over blue balls in a holding cell any day.” He manages to breathe, a shake in his fingers where they're clenched in the fabric of Jughead's shirt.

 

“Chatterbox smartass,” Jughead amends with an indulgent smirk, speeding up his hand. “Also, this isn't  _ mildly cramped.  _ It's  _ very cramped. _ ”

 

One of Archie's hands rests on Jughead's lower back, trying to bring him closer. “I'll make it up to you,” he whines, after Jughead decides to slow his hand again. 

 

“That was never in question.” Jughead raises his eyebrows. But he loves how wrecked Archie looks already, so he decides to have mercy on him, speeding up his hand again, grip tightening. Archie's kisses get harder, whines and keens increasing in volume. Jughead basks in those sounds, still finding it strangely ironic in the best way when he thinks about how Archie's turned out to be the louder of the two of them. Sometimes it's been a close tie, but there'd been a reason why they'd had to limit night time activity when Fred was home. 

 

They wouldn't have to really do that anymore. Only when they visited home. It was a strange idea to get used to. 

 

Jughead nips Archie hard right under his jaw and it's enough to drive him right over the edge, arch his body up and blur Jughead's name past his lips as the other boy kisses the haze from his mouth to bring him back down. He reaches over to the glove compartment while Archie regulates his breathing, pulls out the package of moist towelettes to clean off his hand and the redhead's stomach. 

 

Archie curls a hand around the side of Jughead's neck, thumb in front of his ear, and pulls him in for another kiss, warm and sated. “If we pulled the car over because of  _ your _ sex drive, how was I the one who got the first orgasm?” he asks, smiling up against his lips.

 

“Because we didn't pull over because of  _ me _ , you animal,” Jughead snarks, rolling his hips forward to try and entice Archie to lower his hands. “We pulled over because you can't go more than seventy-five consecutive minutes without touching me.”

 

“How did you-”

 

“Class length. Now can you  _ just _ -” he groans, mainly in frustration, fingers tucked into the strands of Archie’s hair for leverage as he slides back on his thighs a bit to angle himself. Archie hums noncommittally, reaching to the passenger seat to grab the discarded bottle of lube before applying a bit to his palm. 

 

“I'm pretty sure I'm not the only animal here, Jug,” he shows him his grin before tilting his head to the side of the other boy’s neck, running just the heel of his palm up the underside of Jughead's cock as the creature above him breathes out a shaky curse. “I'm pretty sure the score is at  _ least _ even in terms of initiation, if not skewed to your side.” He can feel the protest rise through Jughead's chest and sucks a bruise over his pulse point before it can get past his lips, turning it into a low whine instead.

 

He'll have a rosary of bruises later, and secretly, he loves that; those badges, that  _ proof _ that the beast below him  _ loves  _ him, all of him. 

 

(And if left to his own devices, Jughead will say that rosary, every bruise a memory and praise will spill from his lips when he lays hands upon them, later.) 

 

“I wasn't aware initiation was a contest between us, but - “ Jughead tries to swallow a keen and fails. “ _ Fuck,  _ I can't say I'm surprised, you alpha male.”

 

Archie growls, something old in him displeased with the fact that Jughead can still think rationally at this point. His hand snaps closed on Jughead's length, slow at first and twisting at the head, wanting,  _ needing  _ to bring this beast back to his baser self, a place beyond words. 

 

The redhead smirks at the sharp cant of the other boy's hips, lips burning a crescent into his neck. “You say that as if it's a bad thing, Juggie.” His other hand tightens his grip on his hip, and that will bruise too - 

 

(Another rosary to say when alone, reviving the liquid sweetness of memory. And Archie's name will still be on his lips then, a wonderful demon he prays to nightly - )

 

“As if I don't always give you what you want,” Archie finishes with a soft, dark laugh. His thumb sweeps across the head of Jughead's cock, in circles and infinity loops and with each circuit he makes, he watches Jughead start to melt in his arms. 

 

_ “Ngh,  _ you take too long giving me what I want,” Jughead gasps into his hair.

 

Another nip, a soothing of tongue, a harder bite. “That's the way you like it, though, right? You like the burn and the slowness. You like it when I draw you out and leave you begging for more.” 

 

“ _ Jesus _ , you talk too much,” Jughead pants, voice shaky with the control he knows he doesn’t have. He's lying anyway, a front he knows the other boy can see through by the amount of times Archie’s nudged him towards the edge with whispered words into the shell of his ear.

 

“Would you rather I be quiet? Let you hear yourself instead?” He knows Jughead is about to break, about to start pleading. He can see it in the furrow in his brow, in the tenseness of his shoulders, the cords of his neck. “All of your moans, or when you start begging me to come?” The last word is hissed against Jughead's lips as he nips and pulls at the dark-haired boy’s lower lip. 

“ _ Arch _ ,” Cracked and breaking, Jughead's breathing pattern following the sloppy runs against his tip. The hands in Archie's hair are alternating between white-knuckled clenching and shaking scrapes, tilting the other boy’s head back with it. “I-I need-”  _ It doesn't matter, I'll give you anything, please just don't stop touching me _ .

 

Archie's eyes tick up to his, another smirk starting to curl his lips. “What do you need, Juggie?”

 

“ _ Please _ ,” is all Jughead can reply with, officially beyond coherent thought, all gasps and rolling hips and white knuckles. He’s all sloppy kisses and trembling fingers and _ need _ . 

 

There's something soft in Archie, always there but never so prevalent as when he sees Jughead like this. So free and open and  _ needing _ him, like it's supposed to be this way.  _ This is what it feels like _ . He always remembers, can never forget when Jughead’s beside him, below him, above him. It's what brings their foreheads together, Archie bumping their noses and pressing his next words into the air between Jughead's lips. “I love you,” he murmurs, watching the shiver glide down Jughead's spine as the other boy whimpers a curse and comes, spilling over Archie’s fingers.

 

Archie presses feathering kisses to Jughead's lips as he sags back into himself, smiling when muscle control comes back and the other boy returns the action. “Love you, too.” He sighs, blinking eyes open when Archie cleans them up.

 

Jughead allows himself the afterglow after they've righted their clothing, allows himself to nuzzle into Archie's neck, feeling his heart beating strong and loud in his chest. 

 

_ Will it always be like this?  _ He wonders, feeling Archie's hand on his lower back gently tracing spirals.  _ Like we keep shattering and then putting each other back together again, better and stronger and mixed together? _

 

After a little while, Archie kisses him, nudges him back into his seat with a smile. They hold hands, both lost in contented contemplation as they get back on the road, and the miles fly past. 

 

It's in the next state that the companionable silence is broken, Jughead reaching down to massage at his left calf. “Sore?” Archie murmurs, glancing at him after changing lanes. There's a frown on Jughead's face as he presses his fingers in, the closest he can get to a deep tissue massage in their current location.

 

“I hope you cross ‘sex in a car’ off your bucket list, Arch, ‘cause I am  _ never _ doing that again.” He grumbles, and Archie snickers softly beside him.

 

“I mean...can a handjob  _ really _ be considered ‘sex in a car’?” The glare Jughead shoots him is withering, long-suffering.

 

“I have a charlie horse in my leg from that, so yeah I'm gonna fucking count it. You don't get a say, sitting there all unscathed and shit.” He shoots back. Archie reaches behind the seat between quick glances from the road to offer him a bottle of water, grinning.

 

“It normally means you're dehydrated, here.”

 

“It doesn't mean I'm  _ dehydrated _ , asshole, it means I over-extended my leg trying to fit between you and the car door.” 

 

Archie pulls his bottom lip in with his teeth, laughing silently and staring pointedly at the road. “The end justifies the means?” 

 

“Yeah, whatever.” But there's a tick in Jughead's mouth, a quick lift as Archie knows he's replaying recent memories. Bruises are developing slowly like film, and Jughead's fingers are already taking silent stock of them, assembling his rosary for later.

 

Archie notices half an hour later that Jughead's stopped wincing and rubbing his calf. It's a little after sunset, and it's nearly time to stop for the night. The bottle of water is empty. 

 

“So it  _ was  _ dehydration.”

 

Jughead flips him the bird, looking out the window. “Still not doing that again, Arch.” 

 

“What if you got to be the  _ unscathed _ one next time?” Jughead doesn't need to turn around to hear the grin in Archie’s sly tone, and he watches the scenery with a far-off glaze to his eyes, fleeting images of Archie rolling above him in the passenger seat, or the both of them tangled in the back.

 

The beanie-ridden boy doesn't answer, but his smile is slow and Archie can see it reflected in the window along with highway lights. 

 

“Thought so,” the redhead concludes smugly, going a little faster, eager to stop and rest for the night. 

* * *

 


End file.
